On August 10th, as the London Olympic basketball semifinals drew closer, Chinese fans could almost hear their own heartbeats.
Just one more game.
Win this, and China would reach the Olympic finals for the first time.
The London Olympic Basketball Arena was, once again, painted red.
Chinese fans looked around proudly: We really showed up.
The China–France semifinal was scheduled for 9:00 p.m. By the time tip-off approached, the other semifinal had already wrapped up.
Team USA had beaten Spain, 114–101, booking their place in the final.
After the win, the American players didn't rush back to the village. Instead, they stayed put, settling into their seats to watch China vs. France.
On CCTV, as the Chinese players went through their warm-ups, Yu Jia chuckled,
"Some netizens are saying this Olympics feels like a long-distance conversation between the Knicks and the Spurs."
Guest commentator Yang Yi raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's the story there?"
"Well," Yu Jia explained, "Argentina's star was Ginóbili, France's star is Parker. Someone online made a long meme strip—Lin Yi beats Ginóbili and Parker until they're both in tears, and then they go hug Duncan, begging him to get revenge."
Yang Yi laughed. "Let me guess—Duncan's smiling at the end?"
"Exactly," Yu Jia replied. "That classic Duncan smile."
As the broadcast cut to the stands, close-up shots caught the reactions of Team USA.
Paul, LeBron, and Carmelo were chatting casually. Kobe leaned in, whispering something to Westbrook. Iguodala and Griffin animatedly debated dunks.
Deron sat calm and unreadable. Love and Harden gestured back and forth. Durant stayed hooded, eyes fixed on the court.
Off in the corner, Anthony Davis looked like he was freezing.
The Americans reaching the final surprised no one. If Team USA won gold, it was business as usual. If they didn't—that would be news.
As the cheers swelled, the big screen revealed the starting lineups.
China stuck with their familiar three-big look: Yao Ming, Yi Jianlian, Lin Yi, Wang Shipeng, and Sun Kuangzhu.
France countered with Mickael Gelabale, Ronny Turiaf, Boris Diaw, Nicolas Batum, and Tony Parker.
This French squad was no joke—a genuine golden generation.
Parker, the engine of the GDP trio, was still in his prime. Back then, he was a sleek sports car, not the worn-down version people would later joke about.
Boris Diaw, the French Magician, was coming off his Most Improved Player season. When Stoudemire went down years earlier, D'Antoni had pushed Diaw to center—and Diaw had thrived, averaging 13.3 points, 6.9 rebounds, and 6.2 assists.
He wasn't tall for a big man, but he was strong, smart, and versatile. A little slow on the wing, sure—but at power forward or center, he could punish mismatches all night.
Diaw was the kind of player every coach loved: plug him in anywhere, and he'd make it work.
Then there was Batum—one of the most reliable 3-and-D wings of his generation, a player who'd later land a massive contract thanks to Jordan's… distinctive judgment.
France's frontcourt, Turiaf and Gelabale, brought energy and athleticism. Both had NBA experience. Off the bench, Pietrus added even more defensive bite.
Luckily for China, a young Rudy Gobert was still a work in progress. Otherwise, this roster could've passed for an NBA playoff team.
Honestly, without Lin Yi, plenty of Chinese fans might've turned the TV off after seeing France's lineup.
Lin Yi, for his part, was calm.
Relax, he thought. I've got this.
He understood the matchup well. France looked deep on paper—almost as stacked as Spain—but they didn't have Spain's cohesion or system.
Parker, Diaw, Batum, Pietrus—their shooting had been inconsistent throughout the tournament. Against zone defenses, France had struggled badly in the group stage.
Under FIBA rules, with no defensive three-second violation, the paint shrank fast. If France's outside shots weren't falling, their offense stalled. At that point, all they could do was defend hard and grind the game down possession by possession.
And against China tonight, that might not be enough.
Lin Yi remembered how this tournament was supposed to go.
In the original script of the London Olympics, France would have fallen to Spain in the quarterfinals. That game had been the perfect example of France's biggest flaw—panic. They'd held the upper hand for stretches, but when it mattered most, they scored a miserable six points in the entire fourth quarter.
Whenever Spain put the Gasol brothers on the floor, France's offense simply collapsed.
Parker's numbers in this Olympics looked fine on the surface—18.9 points per game—but the efficiency told a different story. He was shooting just 40.9 percent from the field, worse than even Lin Yi's own idol.
And there was a clear pattern.
Parker's best games had come against teams without true rim protectors. Tonight, however, China's Great Wall defense was standing tall. If China could keep its offensive efficiency steady, Lin Yi was confident the balance would tilt their way.
Under the expectant gaze of hundreds of millions of viewers, Yao Ming easily won the opening tip over Turiaf, giving China first possession.
France assigned Diaw to Lin Yi and immediately went to a zone, clearly aiming to clog the lane and cut off Lin Yi's drives.
On his first touch, Lin Yi crossed over, created a sliver of space, and pulled up without hesitation. Diaw was half a step slow—but unfortunately, the ball had other plans. It kissed the rim and bounced out.
Up in the stands, Durant clapped enthusiastically, clearly enjoying the show. Beside him, Anthony Davis looked far less relaxed, concern written all over his face.
Before the game, most of the American players had agreed on one thing: for China to beat France, they'd need a bit of luck.
And those assumptions weren't limited to fans. Even NBA superstars fell victim to them.
Turiaf grabbed the rebound. On France's first possession, Parker drove hard—and immediately realized something was very wrong.
A 226-centimeter wall was waiting for him under the rim.
Parker had no intention of testing Yao Ming directly. The ever-grinning Manu Ginóbili wasn't around to bail him out this time, so Parker settled for a floater.
It didn't touch the rim.
For nearly two minutes, neither team scored. The tension inside the arena was suffocating.
France still hadn't figured out how to fully blend their talent, but their defensive intensity was undeniable—pure NBA level. Under FIBA rules, their zone was packed tight. China had size inside. France had lockdown defenders on the perimeter.
Every possession felt like a knife-edge.
Then, without warning, Lin Yi caught a pass from Sun Kuangzhu and rose straight up from deep, well beyond the arc.
No setup. No hesitation.
Just a shot.
The deadlock was shattered by the most unreasonable bucket of the night.
There was a saying—The First Lesson of Random Shots. Kobe Bryant once summed it up perfectly:
"When you don't know what to do, just shoot it."
The moment the ball splashed through the net, the arena exploded. Chinese fans roared in unison:
"MVP! MVP!"
In the stands, Chris Paul flashed a three-point sign. Lin Yi glanced over and returned the gesture.
LeBron leaned back in his seat, expression complicated. He really didn't want to relive memories of shots like that.
Anthony Davis jumped up, shouting "MVP" along with the crowd—only to earn a round of sideways looks from his teammates.
Paul's cheering made sense—they were teammates.
But you? An NBA rookie and a member of Team USA?
Have some dignity.
Under the collective glare, The Brow slowly sat back down, looking deeply wronged.
Back on the floor, Parker tried to answer.
Another miss.
At that moment, Tony Parker suddenly found himself missing San Antonio very, very badly.
. . .
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